Either way, I didn’t have time to think about what it was since I had ignored all three of my alarms and needed to get up.
It actually didn’t hit me until I was downstairs checking to see if there was any yesterday-coffee left in the pot.
This was not my kitchen.
My kitchen is cheery and yellow with a bright red coffee pot and a faucet that sounds like a screaming mouse.
This was hardly even Dahling’s kitchen.
Her kitchen is in pieces strewn about the house. A cabinet sample here, a folder of selected appliances there.
This kitchen, which I have been bustling through for 24 years…it wasn’t anyone’s.
The next two months are like limbo for my family. The ‘rents are in the process of getting approvals for their new house and I have already, emotionally at least, made the shift to NC.
Surprisingly though, it feels kind of good. In these two months we will wash off the sins of the past life time and come out the other side ready to start fresh.
...with coffee from the bright red coffee pot.
P.S. I’m taking applications for a Twitter name for Johnny. He maintains that he won’t use it, and this may be true…but when has limited practicality ever stopped me before? Besides, then y’all could bug him and tell him how much